


Sacrifice (Oneshot)

by abaresque



Series: Undertale Oneshots [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Depressed (?) Reader, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing Magic, Oneshot, Out of Character(?), Papyrus Knows More Than He Lets On (?), Poor Sans, Protective Sans, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sans Has Night Terrors, Suicide, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abaresque/pseuds/abaresque
Summary: You know you got the happy ending you wanted, but you know no one deserves it.Especially you.(Sans × Sacrificial Reader)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Very angsty, very minor editing, probably badly written.  
> Sans may be out-of-character, but I tried my best.

You were the seventh soul.

You knew. Asgore knew. Everyone knew.

And you were disgusted with yourself.

You felt like you had cheated everyone, used everyone. You were selfish, using your kindness to convince everyone that you were not worth being killed, and that whoever had the guts to do so would be the greatest sinner in the underground. You were the key to their freedom. You were the only path to their happiness. You were the end of their eternal suffering. You were their only way out to the surface.

You were the seventh soul.

It had been two weeks since Sans and Papyrus had taken you in. You had already learnt that it was either you or Asgore, and you being you, you could not bring yourself to kill the king. Asgore had seen it in your eyes when you went up to face him, your reluctance, your hesitation, your persistent refusal to fight, and gave you a chance. He had dropped his trident, kneeled down in guilt, as you stood over him, barely able to keep your body upright as you bled from several wounds.

"My child, take my soul. You can go back to the surface and be happy. I deserve death for what I have done, and I feel that it is only right that you judge me." He glanced left and right, the three floating, luminescent hearts hovering in their clear cylinders on each side of him. "Those six souls are evidence of my wrongs. So please, end me, and end my guilt."

You began by telling him that it wasn't his fault - he was only doing what he believed was best, and then you told him there was nothing for you back up on the surface. You couldn't believe that statement actually came out from your mouth, but it was true. This shocked the king into stunned silence, and he looked to the side, thinking, a brief silence passing between the two of you.

"Would you mind living in the underground, then?"

Honestly, that was the best option ever. Asgore led you out of the throne room personally, and to your surprise Sans and Papyrus were waiting, as if they knew what was going to happen. Sans had pet your head and whispered in your ear, "i knew you'd do the right thing, kiddo" as Papyrus carried your injured body. Asgore thus allowed them to be your guardians.

It seemed like a happy ending. But it wasn't one you deserved, and it wasn't one every monster in the underground deserved.

Everyone was so kind, so hopeful, so loving, so optimistic, so caring. And you were keeping them trapped down here, selfish as you were.

And it weighed down on you, heavy, toxic, growing heavier by the day, pulling you deeper, dragging you down.

Sans had slowly began to notice the change in your attitude, but you continued to hide. He kept questioning, you kept faking. Eventually, he had given up, but continued to eye you whenever he felt something was off. Papyrus even questioned you once, but he was easy to fool. They all cared so much about you - you didn't want to cause them any pain.

But then again, you didn't deserve them, and they deserved better than you.

You got up from the sofa, the corner of the sheets sliding off your legs. Through the darkness, you eyed the clock, it's hands reading 2:18 in the morning. Grabbing a pencil, a notepad and a torchlight, you began to write. One to Papyrus, one to Toriel, one to Undyne, one to Alphys.

One to Sans.

You let out a quiet sigh as you sat down at the table, flashlight beside you, shining a dull beam of light towards the other end of the room. Sans would definitely be the first to find your last written letters to everyone. You decided to bless, or curse, him with the responsibility to deliver your letters to everyone else.

_Sans,_

You paused before stopping, pencil hovering in midair for a while before placing your face in your hands, feeling warm tears squeezing out from your eyes. What would you say to him? It would break his soul, knowing that you were dead and didn't tell anyone your plans, and would leave him devastated. The same would go for everyone else. Furthermore, you had so many things you wanted to tell him, but you couldn't come up with any words to express yourself.

Then again, you couldn't just leave them without saying anything. It would be rude, and it would be even more painful if they were stuck with the mystery of why you killed yourself, and they would remember even longer.

Your goal was to make everyone forget about you. It had been your niche since your birth, anyway. Fade into the background, wait for everyone to forget about your presence, until everyone stopped caring. And then, you could bring yourself to nonexistence, like how everyone was already treating you .

But you didn't have that kind of time, and you couldn't wait for Sans and Papyrus to simply forget about you. It would never happen, or so you wished.

You'd just have to hope the process carried on by itself after your death. Everyone always forgot about the dead sooner or later.

\--

At five in the morning, you were done, and had left your letters to everyone in a neat stack on the table, Sans' one at the very top, a thick envelope with your long and hastily folded letter to him inside.

It was time to go.

You searched the kitchen, taking the sharpest knife they had. Hiding the blade in your coat pocket, you took your leave of their house.

It hurt. You loved everyone too, and yet you would never be able to say goodbye, you would never be able to see their joy upon reaching the surface. You wouldn't be there with them anymore, you wouldn't be seeing them anymore.

_For the greater good._

The door clicked shut behind you, your shoes crunching on soft snow. Snowdin was eerily quiet and empty, and no one was awake.

_Even better. No one will know. No one needs to know._

\--

<Sans>

**_gold, green, silver. a reflection in a blade. a streak of light. bearing down, once, miss, twice, surprise attack - strike._ **

**_red. there is only red. red covering the gold, red covering my hands, red infusing into my vision. i look up. a face. a smile, a grin, mad, psychopathic, megalomaniacal. its eyes go from red to black, they go hollow. they twist, they melt, and from that twisted, marred mouth, a shrill laugh, piercing, demonic-_ **

Sans shot out from his bed, sweat beaded on  his forehead, his eyes mere pinpricks in his wide sockets as he threw off the covers. His breathing was heavy as he slowly registered that it was only another nightmare.

_it's just a dream. its just a dream..._

Sans wiped his brow with the back of his hand, closing his eyes, trying to rid the mental image formed from his nightmare. Before he lay his head down to go back to sleep, he heard a faint clang of metal coming from directly below. His eye flashed blue momentarily, still haunted by his dreams.

Throwing off the covers, he got to his feet quietly, prepared to investigate. He waited, but there were no footsteps at the corridor.

He silently teleported out of his room to the top of the staircase. He caught the movement of the door as shut quietly.

"kid?" He called out. There was no response. He shrugged.

_morning exercise, perhaps. i hope._

He looked down over the ledge. The sofa was empty, and there were a few pieces of paper on the tabletop.

Sans teleported to the table, spreading out the papers. One was a thick letter, addressed to him, while the rest were thinner, one meant for each of (y/n)'s friends. He frowned in suspicion. Hastily, he ripped his letter open, pulling out the long paper inside and began to read.

Sans' eyes widened as he scanned through the neat handwriting, getting faster with each line, the blue glow in his eye coming back, burning even brighter than before. He looked up as he read the last line, stunned, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his brows creased, no longer smiling as he slammed the paper down on the table.

_I know this is sudden coming from me, and I know you know that I've been hiding things._

Sans grabbed his jacket from the front door, bolting out through his doorstep. He stood at the front porch of his house, looking left and right, but finding no sign of you. He made a terrified sound, his breaths quickening.

_You are right. And I'm sorry._

He caught sight of your faint footprints in the ground, and followed them hastily. They ended at the riverbank, where the Riverman usually waited. Sans cursed under his breath, a hint of yellow in his eye as he desperately tried to come up with a quick way to catch up to you. His teleportation only had a maximum safe radius, and it wasn't that wide - beyond that, and he would be risking his life.

_By the time you're reading this, my soul is probably already with Asgore, and the king would probably have already broken the barrier. Some may have even reached the surface already._

Sans ran. He ran with all his might, dashing through Snowdin, and teleporting the last stretch into Waterfall.

_I'm sorry for being selfish. I made all of you care for me, even when I didn't deserve any of it._

_that kid, daring to use past tense,_ Sans muttered to himself as he dashed through the twisting paths of Waterfall, teleporting through the puzzles. Papyrus would not be happy, but this was a different matter.

_About your kitchen knife, I'm sorry for getting it dirty. You can use my leftover money to get a new one, or something._

Sans was getting tired, but he refused to relent. He had wasted time and made a few wrong turns here and there, and cursed himself for it.

_... Yeah, I'm not funny. I know. I shouldn't be. Sorry for not doing you proud, or anyone for that matter._

Sans had finally reached the rainy part of Waterfall, and as he ran, his slippers splashed through the puddles, and the sounds of his frantic teleporting echoed through the cavern above the continuous drone of the rain.

_I want all of you to be happy. All of you deserve so much more. All of you deserve to be on the surface, all of you deserve to know what it feels like to be free._

Sans nearly ran face to face into a wall, and realised he had to climb. He cursed, skidding to a halt, teleporting to the top before hastily resuming his sprint. His clothes were drenched, and his breathing was irregular and heavy, and his whole body ached from fatigue.

_And I knew I was in the way._

But he refused.

He continued to run, desperate now, as he reached the end of Waterfall.

_... Sans, I can't tell you how much you mean to me. You were always there, and your presence was always so encouraging._

Sans dashed across the bridge, teleporting to the front of the lift, smashing the button with his fist. There were tears of frustration forming in his eyes, and his desperation was evident.

_You're the best brother I know. To Papyrus, to me, even. I thank you._

The lift doors opened with a 'ding', and Sans barged in, slamming his fist on the button labeled "Left Floor 3". The lift doors shut, and he cursed as he realised it was the wrong floor. The tears fell from his eyes, frustrated noises escaping from his throat.

_It probably isn't a good time, and it's selfish of me to tell you now, but... I love you, Sans._

The lift doors opened, and Sans slammed the button labeled "Right Floor 3". He could not afford any more mistakes. He let out a strangled sob.

_I know you'd never feel the same way as I feel about you, but, I suppose that makes it easier._

Sans dashed out the moment the doors opened a second time, teleporting to the staircase landing. He spoke to the two guards.

"hey, did you see a kid coming past here?"

"A kid?" One answered. "Yeah, they were here about two minutes ago." Sans froze.

_two minutes._

"thanks," Sans called back hastily before teleporting to the top of the stairs. He berated himself.

_I want you to be happy, Sans. I want you to be genuinely happy. I know you hide things as well, so take it from me. You don't want to suffer what I did._

Sans sprinted through the hotel, reaching the core. He took the lift up, glad for the shortcut, even though he knew you would have taken the same path.

_There's so much more I want to say to you, but my silence will be for the better._

Sans continued to run, reaching a second lift. He screamed when it took so long, slamming the walls in frustration.

_i'm gonna be late... it's gonna be too late......_

_I have one request to make of you, Sans. I hope you can forget about me. You and everyone else will be better off without me._

Sans used his magic to force the lift up, throwing the doors open with a flash of blue. He continued the last stretch of his marathon, tears flying from the corners of his eyes. Never in his life had he run so far, never in his life had he run so fast.

_Please help me pass my final words to Papyrus, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne and Asgore. You can share this letter with Papyrus as well, if you're comfortable with it._

Sans took the final shortcut, rushing through the judgement hall, the golden light spilling through the windows and reflected by his tears. He muttered his only prayer, that he wouldn't be too late, that you wouldn't be dead, and that he, for once, would be on time.

_My final wish is that you and everyone are happy, Sans. Therefore, I decided to sacrifice my soul as the seventh and final one to get all of you to the surface._

Sans bit down as he dashed up the long pathway to the throne room. His whole body ached, he felt so exhausted, he felt so tired.

But he refused to give up.

_Be happy, Sans. No more resets, no more deaths, no more unhappy endings. Enjoy the surface, live the life you wanted, live the life of your dreams._

\--

You stood at the barrier with Asgore, the sound like a wind howling through a long, deep, endless cavern. Asgore's eyes widened as you pulled out your knife, and started explaining your purpose to him.

_Because someone really cares about you._

You had ended your letter at that. Abrupt, maybe, but it was true - you cared for everyone. Too much, maybe. Your death would probably pain everyone for a short while, but they would get over it.

"Take my soul, King Asgore. It's for the greater good."

Asgore eyes widened as you raised your knife, pointing it at you chest. "Human-"

You hesitated, hands trembling violently as he lept forward to stop you.

You stabbed down. The king froze in horror.

It wasn't hard enough, to your dismay, and pain webbed out from the centre of your chest as the front of your shirt stained with red. It bloomed across your chest, flowing down the blade, the source of your life dripping onto the floor. You winced in pain, your eyes blurred with tears as you gripped the knife's handle even tighter, threads of blood crossing your fingers, dripping to the grey floor below, a contrast to the monochrome surroundings.

"NOOOO!!!!!"

A loud cry echoed through the room as the king looked up behind you, and Asgore stared with widened eyes as you felt yourself surrounded by blue magic. Your hands fell to your sides, and the knife pulled itself out of your body, a weak cry escaping your throat, before being tossed away. It fell with a loud clatter far away. Stumbling, you turned around, catching a glimpse of blue and white before you fell.

The pain was fading, and you felt like you were hovering. You felt two skeletal hands on your chest, gripping your clothes angrily before your saviour fished out a hotdog and pressed it to your mouth.

"eat, kid. i said _eat_." He force-fed you, and you slowly felt your HP increasing. However, as you continued to bleed, the number continued to dwindle.

"You're so stupid, Sans......" you muttered as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding.

"coming from you, i'll take that as invalid," Sans joked, though you could hear his voice sounded hoarse and strangled. You heard Asgore make his way towards you.

"I'll handle it, Sans."

Your vision slowly faded to black. The last thing sensation you felt was a warm, soothing magic, a calming cool clustered around the stab wound you had inflicted upon yourself. The crack in your soul seemed to mend itself in your minds eye, and you heard Sans' soft, deep voice by your side muttering something, choked by tears of desperation.

"please, kid, don't die... please, stay with me..."

"... because _I_ really care about you......"

 

Sans' words, the last thing you heard, filled you with Determination.

\--

.

.

.

 

You woke up, groggy, feeling a cloth bandage across your chest and Sans' oversized fluffy hoodie on your shoulders, zipped up halfway. There were spots of blood on the bandage above where the stab wound was. As you shifted, you felt two bony arms around you, a ribcage resting against your arm. You opened your eyes, seeing Sans in a loose turtleneck beside you, his eyes closed, exhaustion evident on his tired face. You unwrapped yourself slowly to find that he had brought you to his room, and had made his bed so that both of you could rest in it. As soon as you sat upright, Sans' arms falling beside you, he muttered something inaudible in his half-sleep and turned around to hug the blanket instead.

You caught sight of your bloodied shirt on the ground, a note beside it, as you got up, gripping your chest in pain. You bent down, carefully picking it off the ground. The scrawly handwriting was immediately recognisable, and the lowercase letters confirmed the identity of the writer.

 

_(y/n),_

_alright. i'll just get straight to the point._

_you're an idiot, and i hate you for making me exercise._

_since i'll probably be too tired the next day to wake up, i decided leaving a note, like how you did with me, would be best, because you won't have to see my face as i watch you take in whatever i'm about to say._

_firstly, don't ever do that again._

_secondly, i'm getting pap to put the knives somewhere else, so don't even think about it._

_third, if you think everyone's gonna be happy with you dead, even if they're on the surface, buddy. pal. you're wrong, and you're dumb to think that way. we care a lot about you down here, i can tell you. i don't know what people up there put you through, but we're not like them, and i'm a little hurt that you think of us that way._

_fourth, i'm not gonna be delivering your suicide letters to everyone else, since you're not dead. i trust you'll be in the house, alive, when i wake up later, and you can get angry at me all you want for foiling your plan, though i'd doubt you'll be. whatever you wrote in those papers, it's best you tell it to them personally. we'll be here to support you._

_also, i'm sorry for having to strip you. pap and i had to bandage you somehow. don't worry, i could patch you up with my eyes closed._

_lastly, here's the part thats better written down than said - I love you too._

_kid, don't assume that skeletons don't have hearts too. i can even give mine to you, if you like. heh._

_please don't wake me up for the rest of the week. you've really exhausted me down to the bone._

 

You looked over at the sleeping figure, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath he took. You wondered why Sans even needed to breathe - he didn't have lungs, after all. You sat back down on the bed, wincing at the pain in your chest. It was a miracle that Asgore managed to heal that stab wound you had inflicted upon yourself, and you were wondering if Sans had helped in the healing too.

Out of the blue, you felt a tug on your shirt from behind. Sans, half awake, was pulling on your shirt weakly, eyes still closed as he muttered 'five more minutes...', a yawn escaping from his mouth. He rolled over, facing you as he pulled you under the sheets, wrapping his arms around you like you were a pillow.

"sleep is good for you, kid... it restores your hp..."

He placed his hands directly over your wound, a blue glow coming from underneath the sheets as you felt the pain fade slightly. You glanced over your shoulder to see Sans, more awake now, his half-lidded eye glowing a faint blue.

"... You can heal?"

"just making sure you can get back to sleep easier."

You smiled. Sans yawned again, pulling you closer as he stopped the healing magic for the time being.

"i'm gonna keep you here for one week, kid... and we're gonna stay like this for a week... since you've given me a good excuse to do so, your knife wound and all..."

"I need to eat."

"pap can spoonfeed us."

You choked down a snort, not wanting to move too much. You moved a hand up to hold Sans', lacing your fingers in his bony ones.

"Want to go on a date sometime...?" You asked drowsily. You heard Sans let out a surprised 'hrm?' behind you.

"let me sleep for a week first..." Sans mumbled. "then we can go on our date."

You looked over at Sans. He seemed to be sleeping already, though his cheeks were tinted a faded blue, his smile a little wider than usual. You smiled, whispering.

"I love you, bonehead."

You received no reply, but Sans held you even closer as you closed your eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> heheh, i lied in the tags, sorry about that. heh.  
> also, if y'all have nothing good to say, don't say it.
> 
> i love you all, please don't end yourself because there's always someone out there that cares, even though you may not know it.


End file.
